


la douleur exquise

by phoebo



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Slow Build, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebo/pseuds/phoebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a douleur exquise, you think, an expression they didn't teach you in primary school, but something you learn yourself and burned on your own skin. You looked up in the dictionary and you mostly liked the term "longing", and the fact that it told you that you were longing for something you will never have. But that's not true, you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	la douleur exquise

It is cliché, you know.  
They do tell you at the start that you shouldn't fall in love with your skating companion, but it's a mild warning. It's subtle how they constantly remind you not to screw up everything. "Do not let this mess with yourself", you tell yourself when you are alone in the bathroom shortly before the performance. (You do not like being alone, you think. You excused yourself for a moment but you'd really prefer being with her, sitting side by side but not really touching, watching your feel breathing slowly but the only thing you can focus on are your things too close to each other's. That is, you think, the biggest problem.)

You know that you could be a coward and justify yourself with saying that this helps with the chemistry. In fact, somehow it does. When you are skating, dancing, it's like a really short acting. With Carmen, you have to pretend to be in love with her, and now you get to show it.  
When your nearly five minutes are over, with your hand feathering around her face, your breathing hard and confused, you get to see her eyes watering a bit and the proud and tired smile on her lips, red and a bit bitten.  
She always look more stunning every single time.

It's a douleur exquise, you think, an expression they didn't teach you in primary school, but something you learn yourself and burned on your own skin. You looked up in the dictionary and you mostly liked the term "longing", and the fact that it told you that you were longing for something you will never have. But that's not true, you think.

You know that she will love you back, one day. Maybe she already does; as a friend, you think. As a lover, you hope.

***

She is a shooting star. A comet, you think, might be more appropriate. She never skated this good (you notice that you say this every time, but ignore the thought carelessly) and she is shining, shining, like the gold medal around her neck (yours too).   
It remains there, the proof of your own success, the proof of the best couple in skating dance that Canada has ever seen. You don't care to sound too pretentious, because she has always been the best to you.

You two get slighty drunk just because you can, in the middle of the night in the Olympic village, and you tiptoe to her room with her arm around you shoulder.  
She giggles with grace, her cheeks burning bright, her theet white and shining in the dark, and you can't help but laugh too.  
Your voice is, of course, deeper and louder, and she laughs back thrilling you to be quieter.  
"I can't!" you shout, and she presses an hand to your mouth in front of the door of her room.  
You try to push it away but she's strong, she has always been, and you laugh again, the sound muffled by her cold flesh.  
In a moment you lose self control and you lick her palm with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the moment when her eyes wide with surprise. She removes her hand and wipes it on your face, laughing out loud until you see tears on her cheeks. She has to hold her stomach and bite her lips to stop it.  
"You are disgusting, Scott Moir."  
You smile. "I'm just really happy, Tessa Virtue."  
She smiles, still panting, and stares at you. You don't quite get it.  
"This is your room.", you try to point out, a bit confused.  
"I know.", she says.  
"Ok.", you wait.  
There is a strange look on her face. Mischievous, you would define it, but it doesn't fit quite well. You know that she is thinking, with her brows slightly arched and her eyes not quite closed. You are waiting and she is acting like she has all the time in the world.  
But then, you are a fool. You are so concentrated in thinking of what she will do that you don't notice that she's leaning towards you, on the tip of her toes, and then she's pressing her closed lips on yours.  
Your eyes are open, and it's over in a second. You do not make a move and it's like you can see the scared look on her face, the look of someone that was expecting a different reaction, and you are losing her now. She is no longer a star, in that short fraction of time.

Something is pulling you, now. Something makes you move your hand in her direction, and you grasp her shoulder maybe too thight pulling her against your chest, gaining again the touch of her lips, and it's a collision you are glad to accept. You can't quite believe it, of course, but you have to, because she's moving (her lips, her hand on your back, her tongue) and you really have to do something.   
She looks for her key in her small pocket trying not to lose contact with you, failing miserably when she has to turn her face.

The bed is messy with you clothes and your limbs on it.  
It was not your first time, of course, but it was your first with her. You spent half an hour trying to discover every inch of her body you didn't know before, but the she stopped you and grabbed you by your shoulders, impatient.  
It's like you finally found the star of your system, and like she finally recognized you as her planet.

Now, with your head pressed on her naked chest and her hand caressing your hair, you are not happy. You are complete  
"I love you.", you say, and it's only a whisper.  
"I know," she says, and she kisses you hairline. It's the answer you were looking for, the recognition you were thinking about before.  
"I think we should retire", you say.  
You can feel her smile. "I think we should start teaching." she suggests.  
You yawn loudly, and shift your head. You are finally falling asleep.  
"I think we have a lifetime to think about that."  
She laughs.


End file.
